Piccadilly Commons
by TheNewIdea
Summary: Characters taken from various Disney films, (Ichabod and Mr. Toad, The Great Mouse Detective notably) but also many OCs. Cyril the horse is mayor of the small town of Piccadilly Commons, a place where nothing bad ever happens. Then comes the evil landlord who plans to destroy the town, take the money and kill everyone. Yeah nothing bad ever happens in Piccadilly. I label this Dead.
1. The Land Under Dover- Literally

Chapter One

The Land under Dover- Literally

There is a place that few people know about. It is a place that is both magical and mysterious, so much so that only those with brave hearts and wide imaginations can get to it. This place is a place where nothing bad ever happens and the sun shines every day.

Does such a place exist? For the sake of argument, yes, such a place does exist. Will you find this place? I don't know, but maybe this will help. It is called Piccadilly Commons. Its entrance is under a tree in a small park in Dover, England. The residents are all animals, mostly mammals. That's all I know and that's all I'm going to say.

The most prominent citizens of Piccadilly are Abraham "Cyril " Holiday and Hatchet Owl. Cyril is a horse, Hatchet a simple barn owl. They are the pinnacle of the community, always willing to help those in need.

Piccadilly is settled in the Julep Valley, so named because of the julep plants that used to be in the area, before the town was built. The sun shines everyday in that valley, not bit of bad weather, expect for the occasional rain or snow in the winter months.

Cyril was walking along, taking his usual stroll through the woods near his home, known as The Hill, when he came upon something that was quite unusual. Now Cyril knew everything and everyone in Piccadilly, at least he thought he did, so it's a safe bet to say that he was surprised when a badger came running down the road.

"Help me!" The badger said, "I'm being chased" Cyril looked at the badger with curiosity; he had never experienced any kind of violence, at least none that he like to talk about. "What's this now?" Cyril began, "You're being chased. By who?" The badger began to stammer in fear, "Please help me sir!" With that the badger ran off, not stopping to explain any more.

At that moment, a large bear came up-and he didn't look happy. Cyril looked at the bear and then back at the badger. In a second the bear would be on him, so he did the natural thing and ran for his life.

Cyril caught up to the badger in a few moments, for he had not gotten very far. Cyril leaned his head down and the badger got on top of him, now it would be easier to out run the purser. Cyril looked around desperately trying to find an escape. The bear was closing in; they could smell the sweat from its body as it ran and the stench of its breath fresh from a kill.

The bear ran towards them, looking forward for lunch, when suddenly Cyril's back hoof struck him in the face. Dazed and confused the bear looked around, struggling to find his way to his prey; Cyril's hoof came upon him again, this time drawing blood. "Get away from us" the badger replied in triumph, but Cyril wasn't quite ready to celebrate just yet. The bear roared but didn't move-it looked at them huffed and left almost as quickly as it had come.

Cyril looked at the badger, "What did you do to him angry like that?" the badger folded his arms defensively, "What did I do?" He replied, "I was walking along in the forest minding my own damn business that's what. Then the bear came looking to make a meal of me." Cyril pulled the badger off of his back, "Next time, be more careful friend."

The badger nodded off nervously. "Name's Hickory" the badger said extending his hand for a shake, with Cyril accepted "Cyril." The badger nodded, recognized his name, "_The_ Cyril?" Cyril silently laughed at this. "Come on now" Cyril answered, "I don't like boasting. It's just a name, nothing more and nothing less." Hickory laughed at Cyril's modesty, "But that's just it. You're modest. No wonder people love you eh?"

Cyril had to admit, the attention was nice. But it wasn't really about any of that. It was about the people themselves. Honest, hardworking, country folk, just making a decent living. No one was really famous in Piccadilly, mostly because there wasn't a lot of reason to be. But if anyone came close to fame, it was Cyril, but Cyril was different from most celebrities because he didn't consider himself famous or special in anyway. He was just doing what he did best, and that was all anybody ever really asked for.

With this Hickory left, heading down the road towards The Burrow, the forest section of Piccadilly and where most of the residents in the area lived. Cyril smiled as he saw the badger skipping down the road, singing praise to his name. "Now that is something I'll be happy never to see again." he said aloud to no one in particular. Then Cyril headed for the center of town, to the marketplace.

Now there is a sinister looking character in all of this merriment. It is a gopher by the name of Chester. Chester P. Gopher to be exact, the best con man in the  
history of history and being a landlord, has made it his life goal to swindle everyone in Piccadilly out of their belongings in order to fund his dream of making the town an industrialized community instead of boring farmland.

Chester was sitting on top of a barrel, trying to sell his latest scheme, "Listen, listen" he yelled, gathering the people together. "Have I got a deal for you!" Chester exclaimed as he pulled out a small bottle of strange liquid, "Behold, Magical Farm Grow! Pour this on your crops and they'll grow ten times their normal size." Cyril huffed, "Excuse me" he said "Chester is it?" Chester rolled his eyes and turned towards the horse, "What do you want? I'm trying to sell something here."

Cyril approached Chester, showing off his full size, which was quite big, even for a horse. "What's he's selling is poison" Chester immediately turned to Cyril in retort, but before he could respond, Cyril titled over the bottle with his tail, sending the bottle crashing to the ground, spilling its contents on an innocent flower.

Everyone watched and wondered what would happen, if Chester's mystery liquid would work. Something did happen; the plant didn't grow though it shrank, withered and died. Chester stared at Cyril and Cyril stared at Chester, they were interlocked in the world's longest staring contest, both of them struggling to find a witty remark to retort the other with. This stared continued for almost an hour, finally Cyril spoke. "You're going to have to try harder than that to get these people to change their minds, Chester." Chester scoffed, "Really? You're one to talk! You conned these people into building useless farm land, when they've couldn't have big factories, plenty of jobs and live in a luxurious big city." Chester had a good argument, but Cyril had a better one, "If and when the people decide they want a big city, I'll gladly give them a big city. But right now, all they ask for is a simple farming community, with little troubles, no politics and easy living."

The people clapped at this, causing Chester to tilt his head in shame and complete humiliation. For you see, just because Chester is our villain doesn't mean that he can't have feelings and if it's one thing that Chester hated more than being wrong, it was being laughed at. To Chester, the on looker's clapping at Cyril might as well have been laughter, for it hurt Chester deeply. But it's not about pain or hurt, it's what you do with it.

After Cyril collected his bushel of apples he headed over to Hatchet's place, The Tree, so called because it's the tallest tree in all of Piccadilly. Cyril and Hatchet have been friends for as long as anyone can remember a Piccadilly, which is to say, a very long time-from birth if you believe the stories.

The Tree was an oak tree to be exact, its branches stretched as to beyond the road. To the left of the house, which was the entire Tree, was a small garden and behind it a farm could be seen.

Cyril walked up the path to Hatchet's house gaily, for it had been a long time since he had seen his friend. Mostly because his duties as Mayor of Piccadilly Commons kept him busy. But just because Cyril was Mayor, didn't mean that he was a politician, for the people of Piccadilly had no need for politics because life was prefect in every way.

Cyril knocked on the door and was surprised to find no answer, "That's strange" he thought to himself, "The Old Boy usually home by now...Wonder he could have gotten off to?" Cyril looked in the garden, checking to see if he had missed Hatchet there, for the garden was small enough that it was an easy thing to do. Having no success in the garden or the farm, Cyril could only assume that Hatchet was high up somewhere in The Tree.

Hatchet was rhythmically nailing broads to his many windows. Why he was doing this was even a mystery to him, for there was no bad weather in Piccadilly that would require such home improvements. Hatchet was just keeping himself busy; he had been doing that a lot since his wife, Lucy, died that previous fall. At present hatchet kept his mind occupied with carpentry, something that in only a few short months he had become a master at it.

"Your Grandfather, George McGuffin" Hatchet said one night to his two kids, Julie and Robert at the dinner table, "was a world renowned carpenter. He built several cabinets during the Second World War, cabinets that people could hide in. Of course most of these cabinets were destroyed by 1946 so there was no real way to know if such a cabinet was ever made." Hatchet laughed to himself, "That and Granddad was a terrible lair." At this Robert and Julie laughed with him.

But there was no denying that Hatchet's grandpa George was a carpenter, and that he was alive during World War II, so that much we do know is fact. As for the cabinet story, well, take it with a grain of salt.

Nevertheless, Hatchet continued to nail boards to his windows and with each board nailed in he would whistle to himself. Cyril laughed as he saw Hatchet, carelessly whistling and hammering away as if there wasn't anything else that he could have been doing.

"What are you doing you sorry, sad, terrible excuse for a father!" Cyril yelled, "Shouldn't you be tending the farm, the kids and the community like a decent person?" Hatchet flew down, hammer still in hand and answered, "The kids are away, the house is a wreck and the farm is perfectly fine, you selfish, inconsiderate bastard." Hatchet smiled as he put down the hammer, and got right in Cyril's face, "It's been a long time, Abraham." Cyril returned his smile, "I told you call me Cyril." Hatchet shook his wings off, "I will never call you Cyril, Abraham. Never."

Cyril set down his bushel of apple on the front porch and turning to Hatchet, "It's good to see you Hatchet. It really is." Hatchet nodded, "Same to you, Holliday. How long was it, the last time you came here? Six months?" Cyril thought for a moment, "Seven" he replied, "too long for anybody to remain friends with anybody." Hatchet shook this off, "Come on now. I understand. You're Mayor of Piccadilly Commons, the greatest town in all of Piccadilly! You're a real working horse, Abraham."

Cyril laughed in agreement; being Mayor was the last thing that he wanted to be. The only reason he got the position was because the people knew he could do it and present them well. Cyril was a people person sure, and he loved to help in any way he could, but nobody asked him if he wanted to be Mayor. Cyril personally thought that Hatchet would be a better choice, but everyone else disagreed, for Hatchet was too smart for his own good.

Hatchet let Cyril inside and they sat in the living room. The rooms of the house were built up; the living room and kitchen were on the ground floor, the library on the second and third floors, the bedrooms on the fourth, the bathroom on the fifth and the attic on the seventh. It was a very simple layout, but it can be a hassle when you have to climb six flights of stairs to use the bathroom.

"Where are the kids?" Cyril asked, looking around and seeing that Hatchet was the only one in the house. "The kids are with their grandmother" Hatchet replied, "they needed to get out of the house and I needed to get some work done. A win-win situation." Cyril laughed in understanding, "I see" he answered, "So it's just you then eh?" Hatchet nodded, "Yep. It's just me."

Pretty soon the awkward small talk was over and they began to have an actual conversation. The topics were everything from the weather to the local people. That was it, for nothing else really happened in Piccadilly that was worth talking about, at least nothing that Cyril or Hatchet knew about. Inevitably though, the conversation soon reared it's head on Chester Gopher.

"That Chester Gopher!" Hatchet exclaimed, "Will be the ruin of this town. Mark my words, Abraham, mark my words. One of these days he's going to take this town right under us, and there's not a thing we can do about it." Cyril nodded, for his suspicions were the same if not equal to Hatchet's. "Can't argue there" Cyril began, "Chester's definitely up to something. If we could only figure out what it was..."

They were silent for several minutes, each of them thinking of what Chester could do. Chester had most of the land in Piccadilly, mostly because he was a landowner. He was also the second richest person in Piccadilly Commons, just behind Hatchet and not even close to Cyril. Chester could do anything, turning the town into a big city would be the least of their problems. In addition to the factories, Chester would force the townsfolk to perform impossible tasks and anyone who complained would be sent to trial. The trials would have Chester as the judge, the jury and the executioner, his favorite part was always the last one. Chester was known for his cruelty for humanity, but sometimes he took things too far. Cyril and Hatchet know this, because Chester had attempted to do all of these things before and in some cases he had succeeded.

Hatchet turned to Cyril, trying to find something to keep their minds off of Chester then he remembered. "Hey Cyril?" Hatchet began, "I need a favor." Cyril looked up at Hatchet from deep thought, "What is it?"


	2. Hatchet's Reunion

Chapter Two

Hatchet's Family Reunion

Cyril ran down the road as fast as he could with Hatchet on his back. When Hatchet asked Cyril for a favor, he figured it was something to do with his house, not run all the way across town to get to his family reunion that started in five minutes. The thing with Hatchet was that five minutes, really meant that you had to get there with three minutes to spare in order to be considered "on time" for anything.

Cyril made a left turn at the fork in the road and turned down Lake Road, past The Hill and into Terrance Park. Stopping in front of the pavilion, Cyril and Hatchet could see Hatchet's family and extended family, all 21 of them.

Hatchet turned to Cyril, "Listen Cyril" he said "do you think you can stay? Just for a little bit?" Cyril shook his head, "Can't, I've got things to do." he replied. Hatchet rolled his eyes, "Come on please. You owe me, that and I can't stand my family!" Cyril looked at the pavilion and then back at Hatchet, "Really now, come on. It's not that bad is it?" Hatchet got off Cyril and turned back around, "Yes it is Holiday." Cyril was frequently called by his last name, especially by the Owl community. "Last year I sat there listening to Aunt Merle talk about nothing. Literally she talked about nothing! How are you supposed to have a decent conversation with anyone if all they do is talk about nothing?" Cyril laughed, "I don't know. But I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Cyril turned to leave, but before a voice from the pavilion shouted, "Holly!" causing Cyril to turn around and thus him staying for the reunion. The owner of the voice was Fidget the bat, former right hand man to Rattigan, arch enemy to Basil of Baker Street. Cyril laughed as Fidget came up, his wings out of sync and flapping rapidly, "How's it going Fidget?" Cyril asked as he landed. Fidget was breathing heavily, he had severe asthma but that didn't stop him from doing much of anything. Fidget turned to Hatchet, "If you would've told me that you were bringing the Mayor, I would've told them to make something more formal."

The horse shook this off, "Fidget, come on" Cyril began, "It's me." Fidget nodded in agreement, "Yes, but you're the Mayor! You got to have some privileges!" Cyril, again, shook this off, "I live in The Hill remember?" Fidget beat his head with his wing, "Got to remember those things!" Cyril laughed, "Don't beat yourself up. You have enough problems as it is." Fidget jumped up on top of Cyril and sat on his shoulder, "Well it's good to see yah again, Holly."

As soon as the Mayor sat down at the table, the introductions began. First there were Hatchet's Aunts and Uncles- Tyler and Merle, Charlie and Vincent, the brothers, then Nancy, Georgia and Lucy, the sisters. Then there were Hatchet's brothers- Nicholas, Clancy and Joe and finally the cousins, in order of age- Frank, Darrel, Jim, Ryan, Shakespeare, Othello, Iago, Robin, Louis, Fidget and Vito. Including Hatchet and Cyril, there were 23 people at the reunion.

Fidget, Vito, Iago and Othello were especially fond of Cyril, mostly because he gave them jobs building the town, boosting their own careers and giving them prestige. Vito was a yellow canary; Iago and Othello were both parrots.

Cyril was just happy to have his bushel of apples, he wasn't really hungry otherwise. He just loved the company. Cyril's father had a saying; one that Cyril used quite often, "Between good food and bad company and bad food and good company, I'd choose the good company every time."

When it came to Cyril's family there wasn't much to say. Cyril's father, whose name was also Abraham, was the previous Mayor of Piccadilly, back then though, there wasn't much of a town. Cyril's mother, whose name he couldn't remember, was as kind as any mother could be.

One day, when Cyril was very young, he and his family went on a picnic. Abraham was picking some apples from a nearby tree; the branch he was getting the apples from was over a raging river. Now normally this would be seen as something quite dangerous, but Abraham was experienced at climbing trees, a weird but impressive feat for a horse.

The branch that Abraham was standing on to get the apples broke underneath him and he went into the river. Cyril's mother jumped in after him, they tried to swim to the shoreline but the current was too strong and the rapids were bashing and trashing them around. The last thing Cyril saw of either of them, they had submerged under the water, screaming for help. Cyril knew there was little he could've done, but that still doesn't change the fact that he partially blamed himself for what had happened.

"Holly?" Fidget spoke, bringing Cyril out his trance, "you alright, you look kinda sick?" Cyril shook his head, for he was completely stupefied, "Yeah Fidget, I'm fine." Fidget sighed and pulled out a beer, "Here, drink this, you'll feel better" the bat replied. Cyril stared at the bat for a moment, "You carry around beer?" he asked, for that was behavior that was most unusual. "Of course I do" Fidget answered, "I'm opening up a bar in the next three days. That's the good stuff, made with the finest ingredients in the entire world." Cyril shrugged and took a drink, his taste buds were immediately swimming, turning towards Fidget, Cyril's look of shock and amazement said everything that needed to be said, but even so, Cyril spoke. "This...is the best beer I ever had. It should be illegal." Fidget laughed nervously, "It is" he whispered, "everywhere. That's how good it is." Cyril smiled, "Well its legal here!" he exclaimed happily as he took yet another drink.


	3. The Friends of Chester Gopher

Chapter Three

The Friends of Chester Gopher

Meanwhile, Chester was sitting in his hole in the ground; literally it was a hole in the ground, waiting for his associates to arrive. He was tired of always getting pushed around by Cyril and the others; it was time to take action-rash action. There was a reason why Chester chooses his house as a meeting place every single time he meets with his associates. Being the most hated man in all of Piccadilly does have it advantages if you want to be left alone and even more so when you're planning a conspiracy.

A knock at the door, the creaking sound of it opening as the warm summer air glided across the floor and died with the cold dampness of Chester's body, signaled the arrival of Chester's associates, all of them dressed in brown trench coats and grey fedoras. In order they were: Jack G. Persian, Charlotte Chameleon, George Moose and Latchkey L. Dog, who also donned a pair of sunglasses. Chester smiled as he ushered them to the table, "Welcome to my humble abode gentlemen and lady. Please have a seat."

Latchkey looked around in disgust; he wiped a finger across the table which was covered in dust when he removed it. Chester rolled his eyes, "Excuse me Latchkey. But I don't have time to clean house, I'm planning a conspiracy here!" Latchkey remained silent, reached into his pocket and activated his tape recorder.

Chester turned to Jack, "Do you have them?" he asked. Jack nodded and pulled out a series of blueprints depicting a large complex, complete with a working steel factory and courthouse. "Here you go sir" Jack replied, "just like you requested." Chester laughed evilly, clapping his hands like a little child who just discovered candy for the first time. "Excellent, excellent!" Chester turned to Charlotte and Moose, "And what about you? Got anything?" Charlotte pulled out a small gold ring, while Moose pulled out a sliver necklace, "This is all that is left of Mr. Thaddeus Toad and Walter Rat sir" Moose declared, "they were screaming all the way to Hell sir." Chester laughed again, this time more devilishly than before, for Toad and Rat had been a thorn in his side for far too long.

Latchkey smirked at the mentioning of Toad and Ratty's so called demise. For he knew what the others didn't, he knew that Toad and Ratty were very much alive. He also knew that they were hiding out in the woods, and that they wouldn't return, for who would want to live in a place with Chester Gopher as your landlord?

Chester glanced at Latchkey, he noticed that the dog wasn't all there, and was starting to become suspicious. "What's the matter Latchkey?" the gopher sneered with a slight lisp resembling his distant cousin, Gopher from Hundred Acre Wood, "You've got something on your mind?" Latchkey kept his head low to the ground and repositioned the tape recorder in his pocket so that it would pick up Chester's voice, "No sir" Latchkey answered, "you paid me to be The Gun remember? To be seen and not heard, sir." Chester smiled at Latchkey's answer, for that's exactly on what he wanted him to say, "That's right Latchkey. I'm not paying you for your brains, what little brains you do have. I'm paying you because you're quick with a gun. But the least you could do is look at me when you do speak. You are a person after all Latchkey, and I respect you." Latchkey huffed annoyingly to himself, but nodded in response.

Chester leaned in and continued talking to Latchkey, "In fact, I respect you so much that when we do takeover this place, and you get the first pick of all the bitches in Piccadilly. I'm goanna do that for yah. No one has sex until you do, okay?" Latchkey smiled, but secretly he was flipping him off, "Thank you sir. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another meeting I have to get to." Latchkey stood up abruptly, causing the others to follow suit. Just as Latchkey made his way to the door however, the tape recorder that was in Latchkey's coat pocket fell to the floor. Silence filled the room.

Everyone stared at the tape recorder, trying to read the others' moves. Latchkey slowly and subtly reached for his inside pocket, where he always kept a loaded piece- a silenced Five Seven to be exact. Moose, Jack and Charlotte also reached for theirs, while Chester pulled out a baseball bat from behind his back. Chester stared at Moose, Jack and Charlotte and then at Latchkey, "I'd always known it was you Latchkey. I just didn't want to believe it." Latchkey growled audibly, "I didn't want to play this game Chester" he said, "but you gave me no choice." Chester laughed as he motioned for Jack and Moose to advance, "Choice? Who said you got a choice! You're either with me Latchkey or you're dead." Latchkey sighed, "Then I guess I'm dead."

Latchkey turned around and without so much as thinking, shot Jack and Moose in the leg. Charlotte aimed for Latchkey but her gun conveniently jammed, giving just enough time for Latchkey to fire a round straight into her arm, causing her to drop to the ground in pain. Chester slowly backed away, Latchkey trained his weapons on Chester, aiming directly between his eyes, "Do it!" Chester threatened, "Kill me. End the madness already. Save the people and become the hero that you always wanted to be but are too scared to show your own face!" Latchkey shook his head, "I'm not going to kill you Chester. Not yet anyway." Latchkey aimed his gun at Moose's head and fired, splattering his brains all over Chester's floor, "But him I have no problem killing." Chester huffed, "You just committed murder, you'll hang for this, I'll have Cyril-" Latchkey laughed, stopping Chester in his tracks, "So now you're going to play nice? Now you're going to have the Mayor get involved? For what? This is between you and me. Five actions are all that's needed here: me pulling the trigger, the bullet exiting through the barrel, the bullet entering your head, you falling to the ground and me leaving this godforsaken building before I burn it to the ground."

Chester could tell that Latchkey meant business and so, dropped the bat as a sign of surrender. Latchkey nodded, picked up the tape recorder and slowly backed away towards the door, even as he passed through the threshold and was outside, Latchkey still had his gun trained on Chester's head.

As soon as Latchkey was gone, Chester turned to Jack and Charlotte, "Get up you lazy bastards!" he cried, "We have work to do. Latchkey will regret the day he messed with me." Jack and Charlotte nodded and began cleaning up Moose while Chester did the stereotypical villain laugh as the rain began to fall down throughout the land.


End file.
